“And biological weapons for the government,” Doc suggested.
“Exactly.”
Krysty and J.B. paused in the alcove to check the desk, while the rest of the companions continued onward. Branching hallways cut the level into a maze of offices and rooms. Walking slowly along the main hallway, Ryan passed a guard station with a pile of loose clothing and bones behind a waist-high Plexiglas barrier. Bending, he rummaged through the clothing, but found nothing.
“Was hoping for an ID badge,” he remarked, wiping off his palms on his fatigue pants. “Might have made the droids leave us alone, but no luck.”
Suddenly, a loud thud sounded from behind, and the companions spun about to see a gorilla clawing at the window. Furiously, the mutie beat on the Plexiglas window with three fists, but the bulletproof material wasn’t affected in the least by the savage pummeling. Baring its fangs, the creature pulled back and threw itself at the norms only yards away. The window bent a little, then popped from the frame, throwing the beast to the floor.
Swiveling his bulky weapon, Ryan gave the gorilla a short burst from the M-1 A, the burning spray engulfing the creature completely. Its fur ablaze, the ape shrieked insanely and charged the companions, clawed hands of fire reaching for the hated tormentors.
Retreating a step, Ryan doused the gorilla again, filling its screaming mouth with the burning spray. Temporarily beyond pain, the gorilla bellowed a roar and beat its chest, a living nightmare still struggling forward through the fiery flow.
Working the bolt on his longblaster, Dean pumped a couple of rounds from the Weatherby into the creature, geysers of blood exploding from its back. Out of grens, Jak stitched it with a wreath of tumblers from the chattering M-16, the slugs peppering its hide. The beast staggered backward and tumbled out the broken window. A flaming meteor, the howling animal plummeted to the hard street five stories below and hit with a resounding wet smack.
Tiny patches of flame dotted the hallway carpeting from the spray of the flamethrower, and the companions moved away from the destroyed corridor, a stiff breeze outside the gaping window sucking out the putrid fumes rising from the melting carpet.
“How find us here?” Jak demanded, removing the half-spent clip and slapping in a full mag. Spent brass littered the carpet, flecks of gold lost amid the complex art deco pattern of the delicate weave.
“No way it could,” Ryan said, waving the wand to disperse some of the unburned fumes from the injector. “It must have been here for the same reasons as the droids, standing guard.”
“Apes outside the city, droids in the streets, a cafeteria that could feed a hundred soldiers.” Mildred glanced around the hallways. “What in hell were scientists doing here that required that much protection?”
Dean started to answer, when Doc interrupted.
“Excuse me, but where are J.B. and Krysty?” the old man demanded, glancing about.
Shocked, the companions quickly looked around, but the two were nowhere in sight, the long hallway behind them clear all the way to the elevator bank and dark stairwell.
Chapter Nineteen
Snarling in rage, Krysty triggered another burst from her M-16 into the Plexiglas wall, the slugs slapping into the soft material and staying there.
The moment J.B. broke open a locked drawer in the desk, the transparent barrier silently descended from the ceiling to seal them off in a heartbeat. They shouted for the others, and fired rounds into the walls and ceiling, but the companions walked away, obviously not hearing a thing.
“Same as the windows downstairs,” she cursed, working the bolt to clear a jam. “Must be some kind of a burglar trap.”
“Millie says folks were allowed to chill thieves in the predark world,” J.B. muttered from under the desk. “Stupidest thing I ever heard ofah! Found it! There’s a hidden button down here.”
“Mebbe it opens this,” Krysty said, tapping the barrier with the rapidfire. “Press it, quick.”
“Have already,” the man replied. “Anything happen?”
“Nothing.”
An annoyed grunt. “Shit! I’ll try different combinations. One long, one short, two in a row. Let me know as soon as it moves.”
“Gotcha.”
Suddenly, Ryan and the rest of the companions ran into view. Stopping before the sealed-off alcove, they stared at the Plexiglas shield. Ryan asked a question, but Krysty touched her ears and shook her head. Understanding that vocal communication was impossible, the one-eyed man frowned and stepped closer, looking at the slugs embedded in the plastic material. Reaching in a pocket, he withdrew a gren and gestured her to move away.